The Dartmouth Chronicles
by neaori
Summary: Based on plockd's Serendipity, a collection of ficlets set between Aurora and Maleficent's first meeting and the beginning of their relationship. Malora (and some slight Philora for consistency to the original story). Also published on tumblr.
1. On fresh air and thin veils

**THE DARTMOUTH CHRONICLES**

Chapter 1: **On fresh air and thin veils**

"No way." Esme slammed shut the book she held in her hands, snorting loudly. "I don't get it. There's _no way _I'm going to _understand_ this book. Damn it!" she hissed, moving a long lock of hair behind her ear and looking extremely, hopelessly bored.  
Jasmine looked at her, blushing slightly; she had no intention of being thrown out of the library, as unfortunately often happened when she was with Esme. Not this time; it was too important for her to concentrate on the new novel assigned by Professor Minardi.  
Considering the year of the publication of the novel - and the fact that it was almost impossible to find it in bookstores – they had been lucky enough to find three copies of the book, thanks to an interlibrary loan.  
Jasmine clenched her jaw and took a deep breath. "Would you mind lowering your voice? This is a library, not a playground. Are you _aware_ of that, Esme?" she asked in a mocking tone. Esme just looked at her without saying anything.  
"And, to tell you the truth, I don't think you should complain; in the end, this is not the most difficult book we've read, dear. Don't you remember the efforts we already made to follow the reasoning of Umberto Eco's "Foucault's Pendulum", last year? _That_ was a tough book, Es."  
Her friend rolled her eyes, shaking the head. "We read a few chapters, Jasmine. It was a feasible thing!" she answered, hissing. "Professor Minardi has crossed the line! Not only is the author practically an unknown one, she even wants us to read the whole book!"  
"Oh, Es! Melania G. Mazzucco is not an 'unknown one'. She won the Premio Strega in 2003 and her winning book has been reported as a New York Times Book Review editor's choice and was included by Publishers Weekly as one of the ten best novels of that year, the only one not written in English."  
Esme looked at her, bewildered and teasing. "You, indeed, have learnt your lesson very well, Jasmine", she snorted soundly. "I'm studying Italian because I want to visit Rome, Florence, Venice, Naples ... Do you think that the guide in Pompeii will ask me if I know who won the Strega Prize in 2003? That's stupid. _This_ book is stupid", she concluded and moved the disgusting tome away from her with the back of her hand.  
Jasmine could barely hide a smirk; Esme had a good point, there. But she had to study and wanted to finish the task.  
"Come on, Es! This is not the end of the world… and the plot is interesting, after all. You have to admit it", she said, stroking the rough cover of the book in front of her. The tips of her fingers lingered on the embossed title while she glanced sideways at Aurora, sitting not far from them, and yet totally immersed in her reading.  
Esme pursed her lips and shrugged. "Interesting? It's like reading the female version of James Joyce and in Italian, moreover! Mazzucco may have won a prize, but this book is not "the winner"; this is her first one, written back in 1996… and _perhaps_ the only one reading it back then was Professor Minardi!" She folded her arms across her chest in a sulky way. "The plot is not interesting at all. I don't care how they lived in Italy in the late nineteenth century ... arranged marriages, betrayal, jealousy ... I do not care! It's boring and trite and, by the way, we have Jane Austin for this stuff!"  
Jasmine's eyes flashed with anger. "And what about the violence against women? The women's emancipation, the right to express your own feelings regardless of the prejudices and against society?" She grabbed the book with a sudden jerk forward and placed it in her backpack, getting up from the table. "You just refuse to look beyond the surface of things, Esme. Anyway, your attitude is not my problem."  
Jasmine settled her sweatshirt, throwing the backpack over her shoulder, without deigning to look at her bewildered friend. "Now, Esme, _se non ti dispiace_ [1], I'm going to look for a quiet place in the park where I can finally concentrate and enjoy this _boring and trite book _ in peace!" she hissed.  
Moving away from the table, Jasmine gently placed a hand on Aurora's shoulder, shaking the girl from her reading. "See you tomorrow, Rores. I need a breath of fresh air…" She glanced at Esme who, meanwhile, had risen from the table and was gathering her things.  
The blonde made no attempt to interfere in the quarrel between her two dear friends: she had been so focused on reading, completely estranged from reality. She simply nodded, smiling weakly at Jasmine. "See you tomorrow, Jas." That was her kind reply.  
While Jasmine was heading towards the exit, Esme grabbed her things and turned towards Aurora: "She's so upset and I can't even understand _why_! I can't believe it; she's mad at me because of a book!" She shook her head in disbelief and stepped briskly out of the library.

Finally left alone, Aurora patted the book's worn cover, from which a young woman was winking, her long black hair blowing in the wind. "_Il bacio della Medusa_", she read in a low voice, smiling to herself, searching in her memory for the sentence she had read a few minutes before and finding comfort in repeating it over and over again: "_Qualcosa è cucito ormai per sempre. Esisti, e il resto è ciò che accade_". [2] She enjoyed every single word rolling on her tongue, as if she could taste every syllable. Suddenly, her heart began to beat faster. The woman on the cover gave her an enigmatic smile, daring her with her curvy body wrapped (and hidden) by thin veils. It was as if a whole world was hiding behind those full lips, and the woman openly challenged her to find the access road.  
Aurora took a deep breath, smiled mischievously and decided to accept the challenge. She stroked the woman's face, again. "I will find a way to be a part of your life, _my_ Medusa. I will find a way." That, she promised to the green eyes staring at her from under her fingers.

* * *

A/N:

[1] "_Se non ti dispiace._" **If you don't mind.**  
[2] "_Qualcosa è cucito ormai per sempre. __Esisti, e il resto è ciò che accade._" **Something is sewn forever. You exist, and the rest is what happens.** [taken from: "Il bacio della Medusa", by Melania G. Mazzucco]


	2. Between the lines

The room chosen for the meeting of the reading group was a small one on the first floor, not far from the huge classroom where the Italian lessons usually took place.  
Aurora settled back in her chair, feeling quite uncomfortable; the thought of the meeting had kept her awake for most of the night.

_Over and over again - while tossing and turning in bed - she had cursed her own heart, unable to come to terms with common sense and go back to a more reasonable beat. Any attempt to fall asleep has been futile; the rest reduced to an endless series of sliding between the edge of wakefulness and sleep, in which Aurora had no longer been able to distinguish her own thoughts from the dreams._

_She was trapped in a bittersweet nightmare.___

_"Chi sei? L'acqua o l'arsura sul mio cammino? In te annegare – fondermi con l'onda, di te ubriacarmi, a perdifiato, tutto il sangue tuo desidero, e non mi basta ancora." [1]_

_The words that haunted her for days rang in her head in a loop, spoken by the deep and warm voice of… Maleficent. And, along with the voice came her teacher's jade-colored eyes, intense and penetrating. Feeling steadily out of breath, Aurora hopelessly turned in her bed, desperate to find any way to stop the burning feelings that Maleficent's voice and eyes were causing her soul._

_Philip had outstretched one arm, trying to reach her and comfort her, but the blonde could not stand his touch anymore; she had got up from the bed and gone to seek comfort on the living room sofa, cursing herself for being such a silly one, unable to get over her stupid crush.  
_  
"Buongiorno a tutti." [2] The low voice of Professor Minardi filled the air, bringing Aurora back to reality. The brunette was, as usual, elegant although on this occasion she had chosen a more casual outfit. A pair of high-waisted black pants wrapped her slender legs and a white shirt - probably silk - drew the curve of her chest and her straight back perfectly. Her mahogany hair, for once not tied in a ponytail, fell in soft curls on her shoulders.

Aurora swallowed a couple of times, blinking; this was not helping… _not at all_. She had to find a way out of the impasse; mature behavior, she decided, which would allow her to prove to the woman in front of her her true value. Suddenly, the young woman felt the urge to be rise to the occasion; she wished to have all of the teacher's attention on herself, not because of her cuteness or her pretty face, but because of her skill and ability. She was now certain she would do anything to get it and to prove to Professor Minardi that she was worthy of her esteem. Finally, Aurora took the breath she had not realized she had been holding.

Maleficent put the bag gently to the teaching post, opened it, and brought out a copy of the novel. "I know it was an hard task", she told her audience, "but I'm glad to see you all here, today. I hope you enjoyed the novel as much as I loved it the first time I read it." She smiled, shifting her gaze on her students, who all sat in a semicircle in front of the desk.

Matteo Gaggia snorted lightly; he did not appreciate the novel at all, but participating in the reading group gave him the chance to see his teacher more often, and so he had reluctantly accepted the task.

"Well, let's start. I thought that chatting together about the plot is much more interesting than answering written questions on a test, so the lesson will be oral and very informal, if you don't mind." Maleficent took her chair and placed it in front of her students, then sat gracefully, crossing her legs and showing her very high – and very expensive – stilettos. "So, what about the plot? What has most impressed you reading this story?" she asked.

Jasmine cleared her throat before speaking. "Hmm, the relationship between the characters, mostly."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" she started, rolling a strand of hair around her finger.

"They are all losers and they are all destined to _fail_", Gaggia abruptly cut in. He shifted in his chair, aware of the teacher's piercing gaze on him. "I mean… no one will be happy, in the end. Not Felice, nor Norma or Medusa or even Amedeo. _No one_. They will be back in an anonymous provincialism, as for Felice and his son, or worse… they will be defeated and will die."

Maleficent frowned. "So, you think Norma and Medusa will certainly die, at the end of the book…" she stated.

Matteo Gaggia looked down, staring at his own hands: "Basically... Yes, they will."

Mike Foster, a bespectacled and usually not very talkative guy, spoke in support of his classmate: "Of course they will die. Felice got the interdiction of Norma and the fact that she has managed to escape from the asylum does not mean that she has also been able to pass the border… The latter part of the book is, most likely, only Norma's delirium." That he said, laughing slightly.

"Her husband had her locked up in an asylum because she was in love with a woman, not because she was mad!" Aurora's voice rang out loud and clear in the classroom. The girl blushed, realizing she's almost screamed.

A murmur arose from the rest of her classmates and Aurora knew she had to handle the situation very carefully and argue in a very precise way to be taken seriously. "We do not know for sure if the two women died or not in their attempt to cross the Alps. We all know that the ending is open, but it does not mean that it is necessarily an ominous one or a _delirium_." she began explaining, looking directly into Mike's eyes.

Miss Minardi was staring at her, the piercing green eyes full of curiosity. The blonde felt spurred on to continue.

"We all know that the last lines of the novel are: _'E poi apre gli occhi, il bianco diventa inchiostro, il nero dilaga, ed è tutto finito._' [3] We could easily think that "nero", black, means death, but it could also be otherwise."

Maleficent raised an eyebrow. "Very interesting. I would like to understand the other point of view, anyway. Could you explain it better?" she asked.

She was trying to make the tone of her voice neutral, but Aurora could feel her teacher's growing interest.

Moving her hair behind both ears Aurora shut her eyes, trying to picture in her mind the same scenario she'd imagined while reading the book "Melania Mazzucco has been very clever: she told us Norma was suffering from _retinitis pigmentosa_ and was intended to completely lose her sight. So, another easy interpretation could be that once they arrive at the top of the mountain the woman actually loses her vision." She paused, trying to read both the silence that had fallen upon the classroom, and the penetrating gaze of her teacher.

"That's indeed a good interpretation, Miss Briars. But I was wondering…" Maleficent thoughtfully ran a finger to her lower lip, causing Aurora to shiver slightly in anticipation. "I was wondering if this is what you _really_ think about it…" Her eyes lingered on Aurora's nervous fingers, then scrolled up to the young woman's face. "Tell me…"

At that moment, Foster tried to interfere in the conversation. "I beg your pardon, but I think that this explanation of the plot is already too simplistic…"

The edgy look that the teacher gave him froze his harangue in the bud.

"What were you saying, Miss Briars?", Maleficent began to say, staring directly into Aurora's blue eyes.

"Hmm… I actually think there's a third explanation and in my opinion it's also the most suitable." She locked her eyes on Maleficent's and took a deep breath. "To understand the end we should not rely only on the last chapter but instead consider the whole evolution of Norma's story. We have to read between the lines! This is a novel about redemption; we must not forget it. Norma is a fighter: she fights for her sick daughter, she fights for the rights of workers in her husband's factories, she fights for her right to be happy. She is not afraid to go against convention ..." She looked down, trying to find the right words. Oddly enough, the life of Norma had become more and more familiar to her and Aurora felt she had lots in common with the tragic heroine of the book.

Maleficent was holding her breath. She was completely enraptured by the voice of Aurora, the sweet sound of the words rolling from her mouth, and the perfection of her reasoning fascinated her more every second. She wished to be alone with the young woman, she wished to converse with her with no time limits, to share ideas and thoughts, doubts and solutions. It had been so long since she'd last wished for the company of another person, and now, the thought of it suddenly struck her.

Miss Minardi cleared her throat. "So, Miss Briars, do you think Norma and Medusa survived?" she asked, softly.

"Yes." It was a strong reply. "Yes, they did. They did because it was meant to be, because they were meant to be together. And I'm not telling you this because I'm a hopeless romantic; _'ed è tutto finito'_ means that _their old lives_ are over. Now they are both free to be together, free from society's burdens, living the life they wanted for themselves."

"But the freedom to love each other has cost them a heavy price, don't you think?" Maleficent clinched, anxiously waiting for Aurora's reply.

The blonde smile at her, her blue eyes sparkling and inviting. "There is nothing more worth fighting for, and maybe even suffer for. Don't you think?"

Maleficent nodded and lowered her head, smiling sweetly; maybe Miss Briars – _Aurora_ – was right.

[1] _"__**Chi sei? L'acqua o l'arsura sul mio cammino? In te annegare – fondermi con l'onda, di te ubriacarmi, a perdifiato; tutto il sangue tuo desidero, e non mi basta ancora.**__" _ Who are you? The water or the burning on my path? In you I'd drown – I'll merge with the wave, I'll get drunk with you, at breakneck speed; all your blood I crave, and it's not enough for me yet.

[2] "**Buongiorno a tutti.**" Good morning everybody.

[3] "**_E poi apre gli occhi, il bianco diventa inchiostro, il nero dilaga, ed è tutto finito_**_._" And then she opens her eyes, the white becomes ink, black is rampant, and everything is over.


End file.
